


Impossible Years

by wolf_star_buck



Series: Impossible Years [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Death of a Bachelor, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Impossible years, M/M, Marauders' Era, One or two chapters may be NSFW (will be in the notes for applicable chapters), Post-Marauders' Era, The Prank, jily, we're covering all the bases with this one, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolf_star_buck/pseuds/wolf_star_buck
Summary: A series about the Marauders, about half in Hogwarts and half out, starting in their fifth year.  Each chapter is inspired by a song off of the album Death of a Bachelor. May have one-offs based on other songs.((If you sit down and listen to the album Death of a Bachelor, you might notice some similarities between it and the timeline of the Marauders. Or maybe I'm just crazy. Regardless, I was inspired.))





	1. Victorious

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man here it is! I've been hyping this up between my friends for a while while I waited to actually join AO3...Hope it's actually any good!

“MACDONALD CATCHES THE SNITCH!” Came a booming voice throughout the quidditch pitch, “GRYFFINDOR WINS BY A LANDSLIDE! THEY’LL OFFICIALLY BE COMPETING FOR THE CUP!”

One side of the stands erupted in thunderous cheers, and flashes of red and gold covered every inch. Chasers Potter and Black flew laps around the pitch.

“THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! EAT IT, RAVENCLAW!”

“Mr. Lupin!” McGonagall warned, though she couldn’t hide the excited gleam in her eye.

“And with that, we’ll see you at the final match for the quidditch cup!”

Remus hurriedly passed the microphone off to McGonagall and ran down to meet his friends at the entrance to the locker rooms. By the time he made it through the crowd, his friends had gone inside. He slipped through the door after them.

“That was brilliant!” He beamed. “Absolutely fucking brilliant! I’ve never seen a fake out like that, Mary!”

“Oh, you flatter me, Lupin,” Mary said, feigning modesty, and disappeared to the girls’ side of the lockers.

“And James, my god, four goals in a row! Practically gave them whiplash!”

“Yeah, didn’t know what hit ‘em!” Called James, pulling off his Quidditch shirt and ruffling up his hair.

“And Sirius—” Remus looked around. “Where’s he gone off to?”

“Quick shower before the party. No one stays effortlessly handsome after a bludger knocks you into the mud.”

Remus cringed as he remembered the foul by the Ravenclaw beater, and his own string of obscenities that followed (McGonagall had to mute the microphone for a solid minute). Sirius was allowed a penalty shot, but he looked like something that the Marauders once convinced a first year lived in the black lake. “Right. Hope his spine is still in place.”

He hurried off towards the boys’ showers, still on the adrenaline high from the game. “Sirius! Hey, Padfoot! How’s your—”

The question was caught in his throat as he rounded a corner, nearly colliding with Sirius. But not just Sirius; a dripping wet Sirius, wearing only a towel strung lazily around his hips.

“Hey Moons,” he said with a smirk, “McGonagall give you any detentions this time?”

But Remus didn’t hear him. He couldn’t understand why he felt so shocked; they’ve been living in the same dorm for five years already, he’d seen more of Sirius than what was currently in front of him. There was just something about his chest still slightly heaving from the intensity of the match, the way his hand so casually gripped the corners of that towel, and, _god_ , that _smirk_. Maybe it was the shock of suddenly being so close to him, but the way the smirk played at the corners of his lips made Remus’ stomach flutter more than usual.

Sirius cocked his head to the side and waved his hand in front of Remus’ face, breaking his trance. “Hello? Moony? What were you saying?”

“Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat, “how’s that bludger hit treating you?”

He groaned, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “Hurt like a banshee. These beaters are ruthless. Look, it’s already starting to welt up…”

Sirius turned around and used his free hand to move his hair off of his back, exposing a nasty looking mark on his upper back in the distinct shape of a bludger.

“Ooh,” said Remus. “Will that go away, or do you need Pomfrey?” He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly over the bruised spot, making Sirius suppress a shiver. He countered it by squaring up his shoulders and turning back around.

“I’ll be fine. Can’t throw a rager from the hospital wing, can I?”

 

\----

 

Sirius, bottle of contraband firewhiskey in his hand, hoisted himself up on a tabletop in the Gryffindor common room.

“My fellow Gryffindors!” He bellowed, “lend— _hic_ —lend me your ears!”

Remus, leaning against a wall with a butterbeer, felt his ears turning red on Sirius’ behalf.

“What a magnificent fuckin’ game we played, lads. Potter, you son of a bitch, bring it in!” He roped in an equally drunk James by his shoulders for a strong hug.

“And you too, MacDonald, you fucking MACHINE!”

Mary MacDonald stood from the couch she sat on amidst a large group, gave an exaggerated salute, and flopped back down.

“You all did bloody fantastic, holy shit.” He took another swig from his bottle before standing up taller and raising his voice. “Who’s gonna win the cup?!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“M’sorry, who?!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Bit louder now!”

“GRYFFINDOR!!”

Sirius joined the cheers, now a deafening roar of boozed-up teens. Remus smiled into his butterbeer as he watched. But then, suddenly, Peter clapped Remus on the shoulder—part to get his attention, part to keep himself upright.

“Remus, oh my god! You’ll never, ever believe…” he glanced quickly behind him and pointed with his thumb, “I was just _snogging_ Marlene McKinnon!”

Remus looked over Peter’s shoulder to find a coat rack. A very nice coat rack, but a coat rack nonetheless.

“Go to bed, Peter.”

“M’kay.”

A few onlookers laughed to themselves as Peter took on the task of making it upstairs to his dormitory. Just as Remus was about to go help him, he felt an arm sliding around his shoulders, soon followed by the stench of firewhiskey.

“What’cha doing here all by your lonesome?” Sirius slurred against Remus’ face.

He snatched the bottle from Sirius’ hand. “What were you doing on top of a table?”

“I was bein’ a good hype man—hey, gimme that!” He reached for it, but Remus’ lanky stature gave him the upper hand. Just out of Sirius’ reach, he took the last gulp before handing it back to him. He held it upside down.

“You wanker, that was the last of it!” He said, but he couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off of his face. Remus wasn’t sure if the warmth spreading through him was from the shot or that grin.

Remus didn’t care for firewhiskey; he hardly ever drank, even. He recalled the year prior when Sirius first snagged a bottle for his own. He had a sip out of curiosity, and the burning seemed to linger in his throat for hours. No, he was fine with just a butterbeer, thank you.

But something felt different at this party. He felt uninhibited, like he wanted to do something brave and somewhat reckless that he may regret in the morning, but would be a great story to tell.  Might as well kick that off with some liquid courage.

“You brought a good six bottles! Don’t tell me they’re gone after only a few hours?”

Sirius chuckled to himself. “Well, there’s probably more floating around,” he paused, bringing up his thumb to graze Remus’ lips, “but I wanted that bit.”

On the inside, Remus froze. But this new bold and sauntering Remus was piloting. He considered a moment, then cracked a smile.

“Can still taste it, y’know.”

Sirius’ goofy grin turned to his trademark cheeky smirk as he moved his hand to cup Remus’ face. “Well, you don’t gotta brag.”

“You’re the one that drank most of the bottle, Pads.”

“Yeah, but I really wanted that last bit.”

_What the hell, it’s already come this far,_ Remus thought. “You asking for a taste?”

_What the hell, it’s already come this far,_ Sirius thought. “Yeah, y’know what, I am.”

And with that, their lips finally collided; gently at first, then quickly becoming ravenous. The few people around them whooped, but they couldn’t hear them over all the fireworks going off in their heads.

After all that doubt, all those stolen glances, they finally knew. They no longer had to question whether the other was just playing around or really flirting, or whether they really saw the other watching him from the corner of his eye or if it was just wishful thinking. It was confirmed, solidified in one kiss that electrified the air around them.

James, from across the room, did a double take before calling out, “it’s about time, you arseholes!”

Before too many people could stare, they broke off the kiss with a fit of giggles, resting their foreheads together.

“Well?”

Remus opened his eyes to find a rare sight: a nervous-looking Sirius awaiting his answer. He chewed his bottom lip, and Remus felt his hands fidgeting in his hair. He smiled at Sirius, a warm, enveloping smile that melted away any lingering doubts in Sirius’ mind.

“I think firewhiskey tastes good on you.”

A mischievous grin, another trademark of Sirius Black, slithered across his face. “I believe there’s more where that came from.”


	2. Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders try to piece together their drunken shenanigans from the night before. Hope this chapter is as fun to read as it was to write!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight NSFW in the beginning.

It was a beautiful morning on the Hogwarts grounds.  There was a light mist spreading from the forbidden forest to the quidditch pitch, leaving the blades of grass heavy with dew.  The soft pink light of the morning streamed through a window in Gryffindor tower, landing across Remus’ closed eyes as he rolled over and stretched.  His eyes fluttered open, and he allowed himself a sleepy smile at the figure in the bed next to his.  Then, once his vision focused, he could clearly see that the figure he normally saw in the bed next to his was actually next to him, in bed.  He started and fell flailing to the floor.

 

Sirius stirred. Remus sat up on his elbows, frozen. He looked down at himself; he was only in his boxers.  His breath hitched as his head swiveled from the bed to his body.

 

 _How much did we_ have _last night?!_

“What was that?” James mumbled from the next bed over.  His hair was somehow wilder than usual.

 

Sirius stuck his head over the edge of the bed.  He was just as clad as Remus, and Remus could feel himself flush at the way his dark hair fell across his shoulders.

 

“What’re you down there for?” Asked Sirius.  The usual mischievous spark in his eyes was replaced with a dull, significantly more hungover glaze.

 

“Who’s down where?” Asked James.

 

Remus sat up face to face with Sirius.

 

“Oh, he’s down there.” James flopped back down onto his bed and pulled the covers over his face.

 

“I—I don’t—”

 

“Wait,” Sirius said, eyes widening, “did you—you fell from my bed!?”

 

James sat back up at this, and Peter perked up, still under his covers.

 

“But you’re starkers!”

 

Remus stood up in a hurry to prove to the other two that he, in fact, was not. “Well, I do normally sleep in a more modest fashion, but that doesn’t mean—”

 

Sirius and Remus locked eyes, and they seemed to experience the same flashes of memory all at once.

 

_The kiss over the firewhiskey._

_Glued at the hip the whole night, stealing small touches and glances._

_Finding a dark corner of the tower.   The ever-present heat rising between them.  Moving up to their dormitory when nobody was watching…_

“Did you two…?” James’ unfinished question left Sirius in some state of shock, but pressed Remus’ memory to work harder.

 

_The second the door shut, Sirius was thrust against it. Remus’ hungry lips found his in the dark. He ran his hands up and down Sirius’ bare sides; he’d lost his shirt somewhere in the common room.  Remus took his bottom lip between his teeth in exchange for a whimper and desperate, cigarette-smoke stained fingers fumbling to the clasp of Remus’ trousers._

_Sirius turned his head and stopped his hands, suddenly bashful. “M’sorry.”_

_Remus’ hips blindly searched for the touch that had stopped as quickly as it had started. “For what?”_

_“Is that—is that okay?”_

_Grabbing his face to put them nose-to-nose, Remus drew a shaky breath and ground his hips into Sirius’. He nodded, but the growing bulge in Remus’ pants told Sirius everything he needed to know._

_“O-oh…” Sirius’ unusually high voice made him flush harder.  Their lips crashed into each other again, tongues searching, moans escaping.  In the blink of an eye, Remus’ trousers and worn-in sweater were strewn across the floor, and he’d led Sirius to a bed.  He wasn’t sure who’s bed of theirs it was; it didn’t matter right now, anyway._

_He propped himself up on his hands, straddling and hovering above Sirius. He faltered a bit at the sight below him. Sirius just looked so…pretty. Sexy. Ravishing, even. Remus brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes, then moved his hand to drag over Sirius’ chest.  He moved down his stomach until he was teasing his throbbing heat through the thick denim.  Sirius’ chest heaved, moans escaping with nearly every exhale._

_“Now,” rasped Remus, applying more pressure to Sirius’ jeans, “what are we going to do about these?”_

_Sirius reached down and tugged off his trousers with another whimper.  Once they were thrown to the floor, Remus lowered himself onto his bare lap.  Their mouths hung open, no sound daring to escape, savoring the new sensations.  Without even thinking Remus found his mouth attached to Sirius’ pressure point where his neck and collar bone met.  The silence was broken when Sirius, desperate for more friction, grabbed Remus by the hips and thrust them against his own.  All bets were off.  Both moaning sporadically, Remus kissed his way down Sirius’ body, each kiss growing slower and more tender.  He stopped just above the waistband of his boxers._

_“Sirius?”_

_“Mm?”_

_“We’re drunk.”_

_The air grew thicker in the short silence that followed. “Yeah, s’pose we are.”_

_Remus lifted his head to look at Sirius, who cracked a smile at him.  Remus started giggling, then Sirius, and soon they were laughing breathlessly at themselves and at each other.  It just felt so absurd when they stopped and looked at it.  Remus moved back up to nuzzle his head into the crook of Sirius’ neck._

_“Not to say I’m not—enjoying myself,” Remus said, “I just, I dunno.”_

_Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus, pulling them even closer together. “No, I know. You’re…God, Remus, you’re…” he laughed once at himself, “I don’t even know the words.  But I agree.”_

_“Tell me if this is too corny,” said Remus, tracing light circles on Sirius’ toned chest. “It’s just…you’re so beautiful I want to be able to cherish the shag, you know?”_

_Sirius started laughing, the vibration against Remus making him laugh, too. “S-stop it, you ass!”_

_“Ah, no, I agree, love.” He planted a kiss on Remus’ forehead. Both of their eyelids felt too heavy to keep on conversation, and everything slowly drifted away from them…_

“No,” Remus said definitively. “No, we didn’t…do anything, really. Remember?”

 

Sirius blinked blankly at Remus before a wave of realization washed over his face. “O-oh, right, yeah, right.”

 

“…Well! Now that that’s settled, looks like we’re late for—” James stood up much too quickly and was stopped by a pounding headache. “For—for breakfast—Jesus Christ! Sirius, how much firewhiskey is even left?”

 

Hopping down to the floor, Sirius lifted his blanket to check under his bed. 

 

“Well, we started with six full bottles, and now there are…eight empties? How does that even work?!”

 

Peter finally sat up, digging his palms into his eyes. “Well, that would explain some things.”

 

“He lives!” Said Sirius.

 

“Peter, what’d you do last night?” Asked James.

 

“Well, not to brag,” he said, stepping out of bed and swaggering across the dorm to dress, “but _I_ made it with a certain… _Dorcas Meadows_.”

 

“I thought it was Marlene McKinnon?” Sirius said amusedly.

 

“He thought it was Marlene McKinnon, he was actually snogging a coat rack.”

 

Peter stopped abruptly. “What?”

 

“Yeah, see,” Remus started, “I didn’t have the heart to tell you last night, but…you and that coat rack were getting pretty hot and heavy.  And then I sent you to bed, but you were in the dorm below us until about 5 a.m.”

 

All Peter could do was flush and stutter as James and Sirius doubled over laughing, and Remus gave him an apologetic look.

 

“…Well, screw you guys,” he muttered, shutting the door and bounding down the spiral staircase.  The boys bust out laughing again before getting ready to go down to the great hall.  James put on his quidditch shirt and pajama bottoms, Remus repurposed the trousers and sweater from the night before, and Sirius simply donned his bathrobe.  Remus stopped him at the doorway.

 

“Really?”

 

“What?” Sirius said, smirking up at him.

 

“You—you’re practically naked,” he could feel his cheeks burning at the sight of Sirius’ exposed chest. “You’re really gonna go down into the great hall like that?”

 

Sirius chuckled at the ground and stepped closer to Remus. “What,” he tilted up Remus’ chin, “want me all to yourself?”

 

His face was now beet red, but Sirius only noticed his moving lips as he tried in vain to form words.  He leaned in a bit and winked before heading down the stairs after James. Remus needed a minute to pull himself together before following. 

 

\--

 

The Marauders entered the great hall together as always, the rag-tag team of mischief makers, each dressed very differently.  They were used to having eyes on them by now, but today the other Gryffindor’s seemed to be staring more than usual.  While Sirius let his robe stay loose over his chest, reveling in the attention, Remus was more apprehensive.  The stares seemed less ‘there go those weirdos’ and more ‘oh my god, they’re alive’.  Remus leaned across the table at James as they sat down.

 

“Did something happen last night? Everyone’s staring.”

 

James shrugged as he lazily piled scrambled eggs onto his plate.  “Trying to remember for too long makes my head ache worse.”

 

Remus gave Peter a similar look.

 

“Don’t look at me. I passed out in Michael Lawton’s bed after I shagged that coat rack, remember?”

 

“…Right. Sirius?”

 

He chewed his toast and looked down at himself. “Do I look like someone who remembers what happened last night?”

 

 _Oh god oh god oh god_ he thought on repeat, head in hands over his empty plate. _Oh god oh god what did we do what did we DO—_

“Remus, eat something,” James said, “you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

 

He rolled his eyes and reached for a crepe. “Thanks, mum.”

 

They all seemed to settle for a while, eating breakfast as normal, until a fourth year came up and tapped James on the shoulder.

 

“Yeah?” He said with a mouthful of food.

 

“How’d you do it?”

 

James swallowed and turned slowly. “Do what?”

 

“Hah, don’t act like you don’t know.”

 

“No really, enlighten me.”

 

“Well…” the student reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph.  The second James saw it he snatched it from the other student, studying it with Peter.  The student, apparently not getting the reaction he expected, stood there awkwardly before leaving.

 

“Man, fine, keep it.”

 

Remus’ mind was racing again.  “Shit, what is it?”

 

He passed it discreetly to the boys across the table.  It took a moment to register, but once it did, their stomachs dropped out from under them.

 

The moving photograph was of a very familiar looking deer, in the Gryffindor common room, struggling to stand in a pair of high-heels.

 

“Holy shit,” Sirius whispered.  Remus was at a loss for words. _We drank enough to forget_ this _? How are we even alive?!_

“Fuck,” James ran his hands through his hair, “this is bad. Really, really bad.  We’ve _got_ to figure out what happened last night.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

“Definitely.”

 

“I’m keeping this picture for the rest of my life,” said Sirius, trying so hard to hold back laughter that tears glinted in his eyes.

 

“Sirius, this is a huge fucking deal!”  Remus whispered. “Come on, we should go back upstairs.”

 

They tried to leave as casually as possible while whispering to each other from the corners of their mouths.

 

“ _Did people see you transform, Prongs?”_

_“No, that kid was asking how we did it, so hopefully no one caught on.”_

_“But if we got drunk enough to not only do that but forget about it, who knows what else—”_

_“I can’t think of much worse than that. I’m sure we’re not the only ones who got that shitfaced.  We just need to go up, ask around, and—”_

“Pardon me, boys.”

 

The four froze just outside of the great hall. _So close._ They turned in unison to find professor McGonagall staring daggers at them over her glasses.

 

“Congrats on the win yesterday. Would you care to come with me and discuss the match?”

 

“Well, we’d love to, but…” James stumbled, “…as you can see Sirius forgot his trousers, so we should really get back upstairs.”

 

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at them.  “And clothing Mr. Black is a four-person job?”

 

“…Yes. Yes, he…he kicks.”  Sirius snuck a flick to the back of James’ head.  McGonagall took a deep breath.

 

“I’m not implying that I don’t believe you, Potter, but I really think you should follow me to my office.”

 

They started to slowly turn away. “Of course, professor, right after we—”

 

“Now.” McGonagall grabbed them by their collars—two in each hand—and dragged them away to her office, not letting go until they found their seats.

 

“ _How does she even do that?_ ” James whispered to Sirius beside him.

 

“Magic, Mr. Potter,” she said sarcastically.  They stared helplessly at her as she sat at her desk. There was a long, tense silence; they knew by now not to break it first.

 

“Alright, formalities are out the door now.  Explain yourselves.”

 

More silence.  McGonagall sighed.

 

“Mr. Lupin, you are a Gryffindor prefect.  How could you allow this to happen?”

 

He swallowed. “Allow…allow what to happen, exactly?”

 

“Mr. Lupin! If you want to talk back to me to protect your friends, you may as well hand over your badge this instant! Now, what happened at your… _celebration_ last night?”

 

“I…” Remus stared at his feet. “I can’t say, professor.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

He looked everywhere but her eyes. “I can’t remember.”

 

Professor McGonagall had a look on her face even the Marauders had not yet seen.  One that suggested she would retire right then and there if she could.

 

“Well,” she said finally, “perhaps these will jog your memory.”

 

She reached into her cloak and spread two pictures and a piece of parchment across her desk for them to see.  They grew paler with each passing second.

 

“Well?”

 

“Is that…is that me?”  said Sirius.

 

“It appears so, Mr. Black, but where you got that skirt I do not know.”

 

James and Sirius made eye contact, a new flash of memory between them.

 

_“BULLSHIT!”_

_“I SO could!”_

_“Not in a million years.”_

_James slammed his glass down on the table and wiped his mouth, glaring at Sirius.  “Are you challenging me, Pads?”_

_Sirius stood from Remus’ lap and got into James’ face. “Bring it on, bitch.”_

_The crowd of students ‘oooh’d as James brushed off his shoulders.  He turned on his heel and seemed to be congregating with Mary MacDonald.  Sirius, meanwhile, jogged up the stairs to the boys’ dorm._

James broke eye contact and snapped back into McGonagall’s office. “I might have an idea.”

 

_“We need some ground rules!” James called from outside the door._

_“Fuck ground rules, we need to raise the stakes,” said Sirius._

_“What did you have in mind?” James spoke slowly, as if he was already regretting asking at all._

_Sirius opened the door just a crack and poked his face out. “Loser has to do their routine again,” he said, “but as their animagi.”_

_“…Man, you’re on.” They clapped their hands together. This was an official bet._

“Psh, if you knew, you wouldn’t have lost so badly,” taunted Sirius.

 

“Lost what, exactly?” McGonagall asked.  Sirius went quiet again.

 

“…Nothing.”

 

_“For his debut performance, right here in Gryffindor tower, give it up for Sirius Black!”_

_Sixth year Midge Goldstein stepped out of the way of the entrance to the boy’s dormitories and dropped the needle on a nearby phonograph.  At the first note, a shapely leg wearing a black, glittery platform heel was exposed from behind the makeshift curtain.  The crowd continued to whistle and holler as Sirius stepped out fully, perfectly in time with the muggle jazz number._

_It was a sight to behold.  Above the dazzling shoes, Sirius wore a flowing red chiffon skirt, a black cherry-patterned corset tied tight, and a velvet trilby hat that hid his face._

_As he lifted his head, revealing bright red lips that matched his skirt and dark sparkling eyeshadow that matched his shoes, a flash went off. He paid no mind as the lyrics started, and he sauntered gracefully around the room, lips moving in perfect time._

_“I got…” he removed his skirt with a flourish to reveal a black garter belt, “ssss-steam heat, I got…”_

_He squatted and rose back up slowly. “Ssss-steam heat, I got…”_

_He removed his hat, making eye contact with a visibly flustered Remus. “Ssss-steam heat, but I need your love,” he strut over to him and plopped the hat onto Remus’ head, “to keep away the cold…”_

“Well, at least I look good,” said Sirius, examining the picture. “If only we got a picture of you, James.”

 

“We kind of did…” Peter muttered. James kicked him in the shin.

 

“I’m afraid to ask, but… what’s this, professor?” Remus pointed to the piece of parchment.  McGonagall snatched it back.

 

“This was a letter received by professor Dumbledore this morning during breakfast.”  She grimaced as her eyes scanned over it.  “It seems to be a…declaration of love from a secret admirer. One who’s handwriting looks an awful lot like Mr. Potter’s.”

 

James wanted to laugh.  He really, really did.  However, he did not want to be expelled, so he choked it down.

 

“The headmaster says that while he is flattered, this is wildly inappropriate,” she continued.

 

“That’s…I understand. I can handle rejection.”  This received yet another glare from McGonagall. “I guess the game of truth or dare really got out of hand.”

 

“I should say so, Mr. Potter,” said McGonagall.  She reached for the second picture, which had remained face-down. “Before I reveal this to you, please note that I am not proud to have seen this, nor have it in my possession.”

 

She flipped it over, and Remus nearly fainted. There, zooming back and forth in the confines of that photograph, was himself on a broom. And from what little else he could make out, he appeared to be completely naked.  Everyone else in the room slowly moved their eyes from the picture to Remus himself as the story floated back to him.

 

_“Moony! You really don’t have to do this!” James called through his door._

_“Yes, I do! She dared me!”_

_“If Evans dared you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?_

_“You would, probably,” was Remus’ reply._

_Sirius walked up behind James on the staircase.  James, exasperated, turned and pushed him closer to the door.  “Say something, talk some sense into him.”_

_“Re?” Sirius called._

_“What?”_

_“You can borrow my broom if you like.”_

_James threw his hands up and headed back towards the common room. “Jesus, fine. It’s your funeral.”_

“Well, Mr. Lupin,” McGonagall snapped, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

 

“I…I’d rather prefer if she had dared me to jump off a bridge instead right about now.”

 

McGonagall sat in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t even know where to begin here, boys.  I’m deducting 50 points from Gryffindor, and all four of you will have detention with me for the next month.”

 

“But I—!” Peter was kicked in the shin again before he could sputter a plea.

 

“I’ve never heard of such a thing!  Such irresponsibility, disregard for rules, and disregard for your own safety! And Mr. Lupin, as a prefect, you have higher expectations and responsibilities than those of your peers, which you did not only disregard, but outwardly disobeyed and slandered. For that, your prefect status is revoked for the next month as well.”

 

“I’m…I’m terribly sorry, professor.” Remus sounded close to tears now. “I have no excuse.  I’m sorry I allowed this to happen.”

 

“And I’m sorry that there’s photographic evidence,” piped up Sirius, who received another glare from across the desk.

 

“Right, who even took these photos, professor?” Asked James.

 

“That’s of no interest to you, Mr. Potter. I’ll have no vigilante justice from you boys. You’re already on thin, thin ice.”  She took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. “Return to your common room at once.”

 

\--

 

The four boys sulked back to Gryffindor tower, deflated and humiliated. And it wasn’t even noon.

 

“I can’t…fucking…believe…” Remus muttered.

 

Sirius stopped and huffed. “What, Remus? Can’t believe what? You’ve been huffing under your breath since McGonagall slammed the door.”

 

Remus whipped around to face him. “I can’t fucking believe _any_ of this!  We drank enough to kill an erumpent and now I’m not a prefect, we’re this close to being expelled, and McGonagall has a _photograph of me flying naked on your broom_!”

 

“Not anymore.” Sirius dug into the pocket of his robe and produced the photograph in question.

 

“God dammit, Sirius!” Remus snatched the photo and tore it up.  “If you don’t quit making a joke of all this, I swear to god it’ll be _you_ flying naked for the world to see and _I’ll_ be snapping the photos!”

 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Moony.”

 

“A good—you—ARGH!” Remus was steaming as he marched ahead. “You’re so _fucking_ infuriating, Black!”

 

“You flatter me, Lupin. But before you have an aneurism, you reminded me of something.” He caught up to Remus and walked backwards to stay facing the group.  “I didn’t take that picture of you.  And none of you took that picture of me, or that glorious picture of Prongs…”

 

“Hey, yeah,” James said. “I’d love to have a little conversation with this amateur photographer we’ve got on our hands…”

 

“NO! No no no no! Did we not all have the same meeting ten minutes ago, or are you all just still drunk?”

 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go after them,” Peter squeaked, “but I would like to know who it was, at least.”

 

Remus turned to look at him. “Et tu, Peter?”

 

“Don’t say you’re not even a _little_ curious,” said James.  Remus gave up.

 

“Of course I am. But how would we even—” they had reached the portrait of the fat lady, who was in a restless sleep.  The boys exchanged knowing glances.

 

“Excuse me, fat lady?” Asked Sirius. The painting woke and grimaced down at them.

 

“Oh, you boys,” she said with disdain. “You kept me up all night with your shenanigans!”

 

“Yes, we’re deeply sorry about that,” James interrupted. “But speaking of last night, you didn’t happen to catch anyone with, say, a camera, did you?”

 

She thought for a moment.  “Come to think of it, I did let in a red-haired girl after a Slytherin boy gave her one of those flashing dohickeys.”

 

A silence fell over them.  _Evans? How could Lily do this? And in cahoots with Snape, no less!_

 

“Well, are you going to say the password, or are you just going to stand out here in front of me all day?”

 

“Sorry, I just—” James started, but stopped and swiveled his head around as two students rounded the corner down the hall; a bright red-haired girl and a dark, sullen Slytherin boy.

 

“Now James,” said Remus, approaching him as if he were an animal that might scurry away at any moment, “stay calm… remember what McGonagall said…”

 

“Oi! Evans! Snivellous!” James called, “we got detention for a month ‘cause of you! What gave you the right to go nark on us like that?”

 

“Good morning to you as well, Potter,” Lily said coolly. “For your information, I borrowed Sev’s camera to take some pictures for Mary’s birthday gift. But partway through the party, _you_ snatched it and started passing it around to everybody.  Poor house elves must have had quite the time cleaning up this morning, by the way, what with all the litter and depraved photographs everyone left lying around.”  She turned to the fat lady, gave the password, and swished the portrait closed behind her.

 

“So it was our own damned fault,” Sirius whispered to himself.

 

“It appears so, Black, and you all owe me for the entire roll of film you desecrated.” Snape sneered and strode away.  “And good lord, close your robe already.” 


	3. Hallelujah (Part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the fluff from the first two chapters? Yeah? You want more fluff? Well, that's too bad, here's the prank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in almost a y e a r but here we are with chapter three whoo!!

It was a beautiful spring day outside. Sunshine, a light breeze, and the return of singing birds brought a refreshing brightness to the Hogwarts grounds, making everyone feel especially cheerful.  This feeling couldn’t reach the dungeons, however, where professor Slughorn’s lesson on the draught of living death potion was troubling students more than any potion to date.

Sirius, trying to concentrate on the contents of his cauldron, loosened his tie and began to stir carefully counter-clockwise.  His mind wandered back to the pale boy still in his dormitory who had spent the day trying to rest, but tossed and turned out of constant discomfort.  The full moon was rising tonight, meaning that while most students would be lounging by the black lake or going for a walk through the courtyard, the Marauders would be helping Remus through his painful transformation.  He wondered if Remus could reap the benefits of the beautiful day, or if he felt as suffocated as he did here in the dungeon.

The potion began to boil angrily and brought Sirius back down into the classroom.  Before he could find a solution in his textbook, a plume of black smoke erupted from his cauldron, making several people around him cough.  Severus Snape snickered from the seat behind him.

“Oh, buzz off,” Sirius said with a pointed glare.

Soon the air cleared and Sirius was saved by the bell.  He stood to gather his things, and leaned over to whisper to James.

“I’m gonna go check on Moony.  Cover me if I’m late for transfiguration?”

James nodded. “I have to talk to Slughorn, but if I’m out of that conversation before next week, I’ll keep McGonagall busy.”

Sirius patted James on the shoulder and turned to leave.  As he turned a corner, however, he was met with a smug-looking Snape.

Sirius jumped. “Geez, Snape, don’t startle a man like that.  Thought I bumped into a particularly greasy goblin just then.”  He kept walking, but Snape spoke to him.

“Where’s your fourth musketeer, Black?”

Sirius kept walking. “What’s it matter to you?”

“Just curious,” said Snape, a sinister grin spreading across his face. “Hope he returns quickly, wouldn’t want him to miss the full moon tonight.”

He stopped at that. “What?” Sirius blurted out. His blood ran cold.

“Oh, is that not what your gang does? Stargaze? Or are you off doing something else during full moons, running across the grounds?”

 _Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit._ He was typically able to appear calm and collected in times of panic thanks to years of pranks backfiring and sweet-talking his way out of detentions.  He’d let himself slip for a moment, but Snape wasn’t going to get to him that easily.

“What are you on about, Snivellus?”

“Don’t play dumb, Black. I’ve noticed Lupin, his absences, his scars, and I’ve seen you and your friends trotting about the grounds after dark every full moon.”  He had Sirius backed into a corner, figuratively and literally. “What I can’t understand is why Hogwarts would allow a filthy half-breed—”

“Shut up!” Sirius roared, lunging forward and pinning Snape to the wall by his shoulders. _Shit._

“My my, defensive, are we?” Snape said. His malicious grin spread wider.  “I’ve heard things, too, Black.  Of you and the mutt.  Something about the party last month? Never did have you pegged for a fag, but what’s one more smear on the name of the noble and most ancient house of Black?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, you son of a bitch,” Sirius said through clenched teeth.  He gripped his shoulders tight enough to bruise, but then caught another glimmer of self-control and let go.  He turned away from Snape, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Severus.  No _fucking_ clue.”

“Well, you do have a point,” said Snape, “I don’t have quite enough details yet.  But rest assured, I’ll see to it that you and your gang of misfits is expelled for this once and for all.  I wonder what your dear old mother will do to you then…”

Self-control be damned.  Sirius spun back around and pushed him back to the stone wall with a hard shove.

“Fine, if you think you know everything, then prove it!” Sirius’ voice sounded unfamiliar to his own ears. “You say you’ve seen us, why not join in the fun?  Take on the whomping willow, you fucking slime ball.  See how tough you are behind all your talk.  If, somehow, you’re still standing…Well, you seem to think you know what’s next. It’s your funeral.”

Snape eyed him for another moment as the rage faded from Sirius’ eyes, replaced by realization and dread.  He turned on his heel and made for the staircase.

“Thank you, Sirius.  Even you can’t dig your way out of this one.”

 

\----

 

Sirius was still panicking internally in the common room well after dinner.  _There’s no way,_ he thought, trying to calm himself. _There’s no way he’ll even make it to the willow. He’s talking out of his ass. He egged me on, so I egged him on. It’s going to be fine. It’s just a prank. Yeah, that’s it. A prank._

“You alright, Sirius?” James asked from his chair where he studied.

“Fine, I’m fine, Prongs.”

“Well then, why are you pacing a hole in the floor?”

He stopped, only vaguely aware that he had been pacing, and sat in the chair next to James. “Just stressed. O.W.L.s, you know. Antsy.”

James glanced up at the clock above the fireplace. “Get the jitters out soon, mate, harder to transform when you can’t clear your head,” he whispered.  He closed his book and retreated upstairs to the dorm. Sirius noted the time as well and followed him.

Getting out of the castle was one of the more difficult aspects of their routine. Not only had they grown much too tall to comfortably fit underneath James’ cloak at once, but Remus was in excruciating pain.  A cold sweat broke out all over him, and every inch of his bones seemed to ache as the transformation begun.  As they exited the castle and began their trek across the courtyard, Remus winced and groaned; his teeth were growing too rapidly for his jaws.  Sirius turned his head from under the cloak to see that Remus was alright, but when he did, he thought he saw a dark figure back near the castle doors.

He shook his head. It couldn’t be. Just his anxious mind playing tricks on him.

Remus groaned again as they grew closer to the whomping willow. “Peter…go, quick…”

At the command, Peter shrunk down into his rat form to freeze the branches of the tree. He and Remus went down the hidden passageway towards the shrieking shack, but Sirius lingered another moment, glancing back at that dark figure that hadn’t gone away yet.

James had one foot on a tree root and one in the hole.  “Pads, what is it? Come on!”

“No, James…” his eyes widened. “Holy shit—”

“What, what’s wrong?”

“The git…The nerve…!”

“What the hell, Sirius? What’s the matter?” James followed his line of sight, squinting through the darkness, trying to make out the form. “Is that…”

“Forget him,” Sirius interrupted, “he thinks he knows everything, come on, we—”

“Sirius, why the _fuck_ is Snape outside?!”

“I—I can explain, later—” He felt like he was choking.

“Does he know? Does he know, Sirius?!”

“Not now! Moony!”

James looked back and forth between Snape and Sirius. “You go, I’ll have to keep him out somehow.”

“James—”

“Just GO!” He practically shoved Sirius into the passageway as he ran off towards Snape.

Sirius stumbled and fell into the passage, stunned.  He could vaguely make out their voices above the sound of the re-animating whomping willow, drowned out by the sickening sounds from the other end of the passageway.  He still felt as if he was being choked, his chest tightened, and now he was starting to feel dizzy.  He closed his eyes and morphed into his dog form—a useful tactic for avoiding these feelings—and ran towards Remus and Peter.

He’d gotten there just in time. He burst through the door to find a half-transformed werewolf, still somewhat recognizable as Remus, but fading fast.  Remus swiped at himself, creating three new scratches on his right bicep.  Padfoot jumped on him, paws on Remus’ chest, trying desperately to communicate: _this is not you. The wolf is not you. You are safe with us…_

“Snape, come on, you don’t know what you’re doing!”

“This is the LAST time I’ll hear those words, Potter!”

At that, the door swung open.  Snape froze at the sight of the fully transformed werewolf in front of him.  James was tugging at his robes, begging him to come back the way they came when Remus faced them and bared his teeth.  The wolf was too powerful, too hungry, and it smelled blood.

Padfoot and Wormtail tried in vain to close the door before Remus could go through it, but they just missed.  One arm got through, and they heard a cry and a thud on the other side of the door.

“Fuck! What did I tell you, Severus?! You’ve got to get out of here!”

“I’m dead! It’s killed me!” Snape wailed.

“It doesn’t look good, but you’ll be okay. Come on then, I’ve got you…”

They were soon out of earshot and Remus was back behind a closed door. Padfoot curled up in a corner of the room, waiting nervously for Prongs to come back and give him hell, but he didn’t that night.  _I did that._ He thought about Snape, about his injury that he hadn’t seen but knew couldn’t be okay and could in fact be the end of Remus staying at Hogwarts.  _I did that, I might have just ruined Remus for good._ He also thought about James, about the way he pushed him into the passageway and how angry and scared he looked when Snape threw open the door.  He thought of how angry the Marauders would be at him by sunrise.  _I did that…I made James that angry. I led Snape right to us and he got hurt.  Peter will be angry too, and Remus… God, what will they do to me? Just a prank… what was I thinking?_ The waiting was almost worse than the reaction itself.

Almost.

 

\----

 

Padfoot awoke at the break of day, still in the corner of the shack.  Peter was already up and trying to wrap an exhausted Remus in a blanket.

“Sirius, a little help here?”  He said with an unusual edge in his voice.  Padfoot winced, then transfigured back into Sirius. He carried Remus, both under the invisibility cloak as Wormtail ran ahead of them.

Sirius shook as he clutched Remus in his arms all the way across the grounds and through the castle.  The closer he got to the hospital wing, the more he felt like he was in a dream. _Nightmare’s more like it._ He nearly fainted when he saw Dumbledore standing at the entrance.

Taking off the invisibility cloak, Dumbledore held the doors open for the boys.  His face looked grim.

“Sir, I—”

“Later, Mr. Black,” said Dumbledore steadily. “Let’s just get Mr. Lupin into bed.”

Entering the hospital wing, Sirius took note of the only other occupied bed; there was Snape, sound asleep with bandages all up and down his right arm and shoulder.  James, sitting on the bed across from him, looked up at the sound of them entering.  The look on his face when he saw them was enough to make Sirius feel sick.

Madam Pomfrey hurried from her office and went with Dumbledore to get Remus carefully into a bed.  Sirius, unable to look at anybody else, tried to turn and leave.

“Not so fast, Black.”

James stood and spun Sirius around to face him before Sirius could stutter out a reply.  He wanted to say something, anything, but he suddenly felt as if he’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. James held Sirius by the shoulders.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“James, I—”

“Look at him!  That’s your fault, Sirius! You did this!”

 “I know I did, please, just let me explain!”

“Explain? Severus explained everything. Who you owe an explanation to is him,” James said, gesturing to Remus at the end of the wing.

“Severus explained everything?” asked Sirius, forcing himself from James’ grasp, “since when do you take his word over mine?”

“Since you put his life and Remus in danger! I know we don’t like him, Sirius, but to pull something like that?”

“He clearly didn’t explain everything, then.  He already knew.  He taunted me and prodded me until—”

“Oh, so he started it, then?” James asked. “There is nothing, _nothing_ , Snape could say to me to make me give up what you told him!”

“Exactly! He doesn’t have on you what he has on me! He threw in my relationship with Remus, my bloody parents, he went way too far.”

“Your relationship with Remus, eh? Well, go have a chat with him and see if Snape can still use it against you.”  James started towards Remus’ bed, where he was starting to wake up.  Sirius had a sour taste in the back of his throat and felt as though his feet were weighed down by chains.  Still, he followed James.  He knew he couldn’t run from this.

Pomfrey had done what she could and ordered Remus to rest.  He was groggy, but awake, and seemed very troubled.

“Did I—did something happen last night? I remember this…this _slashing—_ ”

Sirius dug his nails into his arm. “I’m sorry, Remus, I’m so, so sorry.”

Remus squinted at him.  “You’re sorry?”

James stood from where he sat at Remus’ bedside and went to his other side, next to Peter. Sirius kept his head down.  Remus was still groggy and confused; James was glaring at Sirius, stone-faced.

“It was my fault, Remus.  It was—it wasn’t supposed to go like that. It wasn’t supposed to… Snape followed us to the shack and it was my fault.”

“What—Snape?”  Remus tried to sit up but barely managed.

“He cornered me yesterday and I—I told him.  Not your secret! Not your secret, he… he seemed to already know.  But I was weak and he got in my head and I told him about the whomping willow.”

“You _told_ him…and he was there?” Sirius nodded. 

“And I hurt him?” Sirius looked towards the opposite end of the wing.

“Not badly, he’ll be out of here before supper, but—”

“But it was your fault.”

Sirius’ head snapped up. Remus’ face was glazed over with a glassy expression he’d never seen before. He stammered, unable to look away from his piercing gaze.

“Yes, it was my fault, but he came to me, taunted me.  I lost it and told him about the willow, but I didn’t ever think he’d be thick enough to try and come! I was hoping… I don’t know, I was hoping I could play it off as a…a sort of prank.”

The words hung in the air as the look in Remus’ eyes grew further still.  James crossed his arms and turned away while Peter looked back and forth between them, unsure of where this would lead.

“A prank?” Remus said, “this is a prank to you?”

“Well, I—”

“This is your idea of a prank?” His voice was ten times stronger and angrier than he looked lying in the small cot.

“I didn’t plan any of this.  This is all Snape, he’s the one who fucked up here!” He gave a breathless laugh. “Come on, Snivellus will be fine, and you’ll be fine, and soon it’ll be like this never—”

“Like it never happened?!” Remus tried sitting up again as best he could. “Maybe to you, Sirius, but I have to live with this! I’ve _always_ had to live with this and I _always will_!  And you’re trying to brush it off as a prank gone wrong?”

“Remus, I…” tears threatened in Sirius’ eyes. “Please, Remus, what else can I do?”

“You can get the fuck out of here.”

James and Peter whipped their heads, waiting for Sirius’ reaction to the icy command.

“Come on, Remus, I’m sorry, I never—”

“GO!”

The roaring voice nearly knocked Sirius off his feet.  He looked to James; jaw clenched, arms crossed, he nodded towards the door. He looked to Peter; scared, beady eyes looked back at him.  He looked back to Remus; nothing but that faraway volcanic anger.  He took a few shaky steps backward. _This can’t be happening._ He turned and took a few more, waiting for his friends to say something, anything. _What have I done?_ He started running, his steps echoing loudly off of the high walls, and slammed the door behind him.  He kept running.

_I’ve ruined everything. I’ve lost everything._

He was out of the castle now, his breathing labored as he willed himself forward. He didn’t know where his destination was. He just had to keep going. He crossed the threshold into the forest.

_They’re gone they’re gone they’re GONE what did you DO how could you DO THIS what have you DONE_

His legs giving out, he tossed himself onto the nearest tree and fell to his knees. He wished desperately to outrun his thoughts, but they kept taunting him over and over: _they’re gone they’re gone you did this how could you they’re GONE_

Breathing jagged, hair wild, tears streaming down his face, he screamed into the trees.


	4. Hallelujah (Part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the time for being sad is over,  
> and you miss him like you miss no other,  
> and being blue is better than being over it...

The crowd watched with bated breath as Mary MacDonald and Evan Rosier reached for the snitch at exactly the same time.

“The two seekers are neck and neck… The snitch remains just out of reach, but—wait, was that?!—GRYFFINDOR WINS!” Remus bellowed as the stadium erupted in cheers, “MACDONALD HAS DONE IT AGAIN! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP FOR ANOTHER YEAR!”

He switched off the microphone and turned to McGonagall, who was failing to remain unbiased. “Whew, that was a close game! How does Mary know how to catch it at _just_ the right second?’

“I haven’t the slightest clue, but I’m not one to doubt her methods!” She gave one last cheer with the crowd before she fixed her hair and regained her composure.  She stopped Remus just as he started down the steps. “Excuse me Mr. Lupin, may I have a quick word?”

“Everything alright, professor?”

“I’m hoping you can tell me,” she said. “Is something the matter with Sirius Black?”

Remus squared his shoulders. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s not been himself lately.” She looked out onto the pitch at the seven students in red and gold, lips pursed and brow furrowed. “Today’s match was far from his best performance, as you saw, and he’s been falling steadily behind in nearly all of his classes.  He hardly attended my class at all this week. Do you have any idea what might be the trouble?”

“No, he hasn’t mentioned a thing.” Remus’ mind went back to that morning in the hospital wing—goodness, nearly two months ago now—and felt the sting of betrayal as sharp as ever.

McGonagall watched him and, catching the faraway look in his eye, decided not to press further. “Well, if anything comes to your attention, please do let me know. The well being of my students is my top priority." 

“Of course, professor.”

 

 

\----

 

 

As difficult as it is avoiding someone you live, eat meals, and take every class with, Remus was doing a bang-up job with what he had.

The anger didn’t last long from James. He thought Sirius was an idiot, but he couldn’t stay mad at his best friend, not when he thought more of why Sirius acted the way he did. He couldn’t pretend it had never happened, but he would never turn his back on Sirius.

Remus was another story. Despite all of Sirius’ attempts to explain and apologize, Remus often acted as if he wasn’t even there.  He knew how much that must have been hurting Sirius, but did Sirius realize how badly he hurt him?  Not only did he betray Remus’ trust, but he made Remus feel more like a horrible monster than he ever had before.

It was nearly all he could think about now, standing in the corner of a common room party in full swing.  The mood was drastically changed from last time; it was still full of rowdy, drinking students, but the marauders, the heart of the party, were drastically different. James still made everybody laugh, and Peter still laughed the hardest.  But where Sirius would normally be alongside James, or hyping up the quidditch team, he was talking to everyone at once and drinking obscene amounts of firewhiskey.  He couldn’t let them know he wasn’t okay, and the whiskey kept himself from knowing he wasn’t okay.

Remus did still stand by himself on the sidelines, nursing a butterbeer.  He hardly ever drank, after all, and the firewhiskey left a horrid taste in his mouth.  He still watched James and snickered at his stories, and while he wouldn’t admit it, he was watching Sirius, too.  Watching him make a fool of himself, watching him trying to distract everybody from the bags under his eyes by being more outgoing and exuberant than he’d ever been.  Remus knew why, and he wasn’t about to give Sirius the satisfaction. He downed the last of his butterbeer, snuck upstairs, and left James a note on top of his trunk:

 

            _Borrowed the cloak. Needed some fresh air. Be back soon._

_\--Remus_

 

\----

 

 

It was early morning by the time Remus tiptoed through the common room to get to the dormitory stairs, stepping over discarded cups and decorations that the house elves hadn’t yet gotten the chance to clean.  He had made a thorough walkthrough of the castle and the grounds— _someone should really make a map of this place,_ he thought—and dozed near the black lake for a short while.  He had gone to clear his head, but came back more jumbled up than before.

_The slashing._

_The blood._

_The hospital wing._

_Sirius..._

_Sirius, you always told me I wasn’t a monster, so why would you treat me like one?_

 

He finally felt ready to confront Sirius. He knew deep down that he didn’t want to lose his friendship, and possibly more, if that was still in the cards.  He did start to see Sirius’ thought process more clearly.  He was hot headed, and Snape knew how to press his buttons.  Maybe he really didn’t mean for this to happen. Maybe he really was as sorry as he seemed.  Maybe—

Remus found himself outside the curtains of Sirius’ four poster.  He raised his fist as if to knock, then shook his head at himself. _I should do this quickly and get to sleep._

“Sirius?” He whispered. “Sirius, it’s me. I think we should talk.”

He felt the weight on the mattress shift and braced himself for what he was about to face.  However, when the curtain opened, it wasn’t Sirius who had opened it. No, Sirius was sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed.  Instead, he looked into the face of Marlene McKinnon, wearing her T-shirt from the party and covering the rest of herself with the comforter.

“Ah, hi, Remus,” she whispered awkwardly. “D’you want me to wake him up?”

Remus felt very lightheaded all of a sudden. “No, um, that’s fine. It can wait I guess.”

“M’kay. Night,” she said, closing the curtain again.

“Night,” he whispered, collapsing onto his own bed. His heart was beating so frantically he thought it might burst.

_So this is how it is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you worry, fellow Dorlene shippers, I have something for y'all in the works ;-)
> 
> As for my fellow Wolfstar shippers.... lol whoops


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